


Real Sugar

by shirewalker



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Bakery, F/M, aleksander is a mysterious man with a mysterious job, alina is a baker, and he LOVES her baked goods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 03:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10982871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirewalker/pseuds/shirewalker
Summary: Alina Starkov is the proud owner and baker of Real Sugar. Her baked goods are famous across town.One day a silver eyed man clad in black enters through her door promptly shaking her to the core.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

Real Sugar was, without a doubt, the best little bakery in all of Os Alta. Located in a small red brick building, the bakery’s bright outer yellow walls and pastel pink awning brought a pop of colour to an otherwise dull street, full of grey and white shop fronts that blended together after a while. The little bakery nestled happily between a Laundromat and a stationery shop and across the road sat a wonderful antiques shop, where the bakery’s little bell had been bought, alongside its quirky furniture. People came from all over the place to eat Real Sugar’s pastries, cookies, cakes and muffins. Milkshakes and cappuccinos were made in the moment to fit each client’s needs and desires. Carefully chosen retro ambience music played in the background as the patrons sat on mismatched white chairs and ate by clear glass round tables and the scent of freshly baked goods filled the air.

Real Sugar was paradise on earth for anyone with a sweet tooth.

And Alina Starkov was its patron saint.

 

* * *

 

“And I’ll have a slice of lemon cheesecake, please, it looks divine!” Miss Chang finished her request, her black eyes shining with anticipation. Alina took her money with a satisfied smirk and told Miss Chang she could sit while her coffee was made.

As the lemon cheesecake disappeared with a speed only surpassed by light itself, Alina whooped to herself, happy that her newest recipe was succeeding so well with her clients. The cheesecake had been made just the previous night and it was already so close to being sold out, and it was just a little past lunchtime. Her little trick to make it extra fluffy and light, while keeping a bright eye-catching shade of lemony yellow, had done the job almost too well. She was glad she’d written down every single step she’d taken, or this would be a very short success. Tomorrow she would make another one. Perhaps two.

A new client was announced with the light ring of her door bell and she put on her best, most honest smile. Patrons always loved a polite and nice host. But they were also quite good at knowing when a smile as fake. Hers never was, Alina loved this life, how could she ever present a client with a fake smile?

Her smile froze and almost morphed into a stunned gaping hole as her eyes fell on her client.

A tall man walked to the counter.

Not a man.

This must be a god.

His black suit fitted his lean figure so perfectly that she could follow all the lines of his body with just her eyes. His steps were almost lazy, as if he was strolling down the park and not inside a shop. His hair was as black as the night, combed back in a casual style that allowed a few rogue locks to fall to his eyes. And oh, his eyes… His eyes… Alina swore that she had never seen eyes as beautiful and unreal as those two perfect pools of silver. There was a spark within them that made her feel too hot, too confined in her own skin. This man couldn’t be real, he just couldn’t. This was an illusion, a product of a strange fever that had taken over her body in the last few seconds. Any minute now she would faint due to the stress on her system, only to wake up and find out that yes, she had just imagined to see some kind of god walking into her shop.

Her eyes fell on his lips – perfect shape, perfect size, perfect shade of pink – and she realised with a startle that he was speaking to her. “Good afternoon.” He said, his smooth voice like music to her ears.

“Good afternoon!” she chirped, perhaps a bit too brightly, “Welcome to Real Sugar. What can I get you, sir?” her ears burned with how fake her bright tone sounded, with how obviously she’d been ogling the new client and with the way his eyes seemed to pierce through hers so easily.

But the silver eyed man didn’t seem to notice her embarrassment, though a ghost of a smile played on the corner of his lips. Alina wondered if she was just imagining it or if the was really good at hiding it. “Coffee, black. Please.” He said, after a moment.

Her hair, up in a messy white bun, bobbed up and down as she nodded and took his order, “Will that be all?” she said, a few white locks falling to her eyes, which she quickly tried to tuck away behind her ears.

He opened his mouth then hesitated, and for a moment Alina thought she’d seen embarrassment in his eyes, just before he looked away. Then the moment was gone and his composure was back, “Three packets of sugar.”

Well, that was unexpected. And so not what she’d meant… “I see. You’ll only take coffee with sugar, is that it?” when he didn’t answer, Alina put on her professional smile and added, “This is a bakery after all. I’m sure among all the sweets and baked goods on display there’s something to your liking.” Feeling like she was being too pushy, she quickly added, “Might I suggest the lemon cheesecake? Just made it. It would be a perfect companion to your coffee. The light texture is the perfect counterpart to the strong taste of coffee.”

His eyes fell on the closest display. He took a step towards it and studied the desserts for a moment. “What is this?” he pointed at a black cupcake topped with golden-dipped whipped cream. The golden paint shinned brighter with the midday sunlight.

Pride gave Alina a new bounce to her step and a new edge to her smile, “That’s the Galaxy Far Away cupcake. It’s dark chocolate with chips of white chocolate and white sprinkles inside. Topped off with a classic whipped cream that gets an unexpected twist with the golden dye.” The words had been said so many times by now that they no longer felt rehearsed to her, they just… came to her. It was one of her favourite themed baked goods.

The mysterious walking and breathing Adonis nodded once, “I’ll take one with the coffee.” Then he walked back to the counter and took out his wallet, ready to pay.

Alina shook her hands, “Oh no, please. You can pay after you’re done. I’ll take the check to you.”

The corners of his lips curved up and the young baker almost fainted, even his smile was unrealistically beautiful. How could he be real? Was there some sort of magic involved in his existence? Was the water he drank spiked with something special? She imagined the man had some fairy godmother working on him every night while he slept. Fixing his hair and dying it the right shade of black, polishing his eyes so they could reflect anything they looked upon, adding just a bit of pink to his cheeks so he could have a natural, but incredibly delicious to look at blush. Alina dug her nails into her palm, forcing herself out of the crazy delusions just in time to hear his reply, “I insist on paying right away, miss…?” the question hanged in the air and she caught it in her net just barely.

“Oh. Starkov. Alina Starkov. That’s the name under the bakery’s sign.” She quickly replied, her smile back in place. She had no problem in telling him her name. It was, after all, written in big fancy letters under the bakery’s name. Everyone knew who she was.

“Alina Starkov…” the man mused, her name rolling off his tongue like silk caressing her skin, “A beautiful name. I am Aleksander Morozova,” he added with a short nod and smiled, “And I would like to know how much I owe.”

 

* * *

 

Out the corner of her eye she watched Morozova. From casual glances at other clients, she knew they weren’t as good as her at pretending not to watch the silver eyed man. Feeling braver than usual, she dared an open glance. There, by his now empty coffee cup, laid the remains of four sugar packets. He’d asked for another, after tasting the cupcake before taking a sip of his coffee. The grimace he’d made was almost adorable. Alina wondered how a man that walked with the confidence of a king and the mystery of shadow itself could be so easily defeated by a little bit of extra bitterness in his coffee. He looked like a child tasting coffee for the first time.

The shine in his eyes as he finished her cupcake, however… that shine almost made her melt on the spot. She thanked whoever had made him so into sweets for they had given her quite a gift in Morozova and the way he ate her cupcake. It was borderline aphrodisiac.

It wasn’t until he’d left, with the promise of coming back, “You have a talent, Miss Starkov, I’ll be sure to return,” that she had realised how she had been so incredibly attracted to a stranger just because of his looks and the way he ate her food. How embarrassing. She was stronger than this.

And she would make sure to be more in control of her… impulses, next time. _If_ he did return.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

It didn’t take long before Aleksander Morozova became a regular at Real Sugar. And it didn’t take long before Alina Starkov had failed in the most spectacular way at _not_ being attracted to the man.

Little over a month had passed since that first day he’d walked into her life and Alina no longer could control the way her heart drummed faster at his sight, the way butterflies seemed to burst to life whenever he said her name, the way all air seemed to vanish whenever their eyes locked. She was crushing on Morozova, hard, and she had no idea on how to stop such a disaster from happening. No good ever came from falling for a man that could very well be a fallen god.

 

* * *

 

Halloween was just around the corner and the weather was perfectly attuned with the spooky season. A thunderstorm had hit Os Alta earlier that morning, harsh winds and heavy rain chasing away even her most faithful clients. No soul, but those that desperately needed so, could be seen braving the violent weather. And so, Alina had taken the chance to work on her Halloween cookies. They had been a hit the previous year, right after she opened Real Sugar, and there was no way that she wouldn’t make them again.

The first batch of cookies of the day was already set for display. All cooled and decorated, their shapes and icing decoration made to perfection. There were little white ghosts with tiny pink blushes and round little spooky mouths. There were round and bright orange pumpkins with sharp, dangerous smirks and lit up eyes with a green leaf as a finishing touch. There were shabby and mossy haunted houses, their windows featuring eerie glows. And soon, there would be more. Her favourites were currently on the making…

Holding her breath, she carefully added a dot of white icing to a yellow eye, right the iris met the pupil. She bit her lip as the dot settled and, after making sure it looked good, she moved on to the next eye. Alina always took the longest of times when working on the volcra cookies, they were her “babies” after all, and she couldn’t just do them. She had to _create_ them.

The Volcra, weren’t just her “babies”, they were her favourite supernatural creature among all cultures on Earth.

No one really knew what these creatures looked like, only that they lurked in the darkest of shadows always waiting, waiting, waiting for their next meal. Always waiting for the next lost soul they could lure into their embrace and devour in a heartbeat. They were the stuff of misbehaved children’s nightmares. The bogeyman of Ravka’s younglings.

Unlike other kids, Alina wasn’t scared of them. She didn’t think they really _ate_ their victims. If they did, where were the remains? No, she thought they were just lonely like her and so, one rainy day just like this one, Alina did a cute little drawing of what she imagined the volcra looked like. Big clumsy hands, body like that of a cute, cartoony ghost, bright yellow eyes and a smile full of sharp teeth.

Her teachers hadn’t been too fond of the drawing.

She hadn’t been too fond of their disapproval.

Fifteen years later and a whole notebook full of random doodles later, Alina had finally given life to her little friends. In a rather ironic shape yes, but still, she’d given them life and they had been more successful than she had ever thought they would. If only she could see the looks on her teachers’ faces… Alina was sure they would be as white as her ghosts and as horrified as the most ardent church-goer.

 

* * *

 

The soft jingle of her door bell echoed through the bakery, the soft ring loud within the bakery’s empty halls, and for a moment, her current volcra saw its life passing in front of its eyes as Alina almost drew a hole through it. Her heart hammered against her bones in fear of what might have happened. Her heart hammered against her bones in anticipation.

Silly heart.

Silly Alina.

Silly pair for hoping the visitor was the man that kept her awake at night and dreaming through the day.

Steadying herself, Alina finished the eye and settled the piping bag on the counter. Her hand was shaking. With a deep breath, she looked up, ready to see anyone but the one person she wanted to see.

It seemed, however, that the universe had some wicked ways of destabilizing her.

Silver eyes, deep and beautiful as ever, stared into hers. Her ears burned, her body set ablaze with just the way his gaze pierced into hers. And it was from a distance. If he got too close, Alina suspected she’d melt like ice-cream under the sun.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he began walking towards her. She bit her lip and tried to look busy, lest she accidentally yell stupid things at him. Things like how gorgeous he is, how she can’t believe he isn’t an actual god, how much she wants to feel him all over her, how at night she wonders what it must be like to…

The undecorated volcra shaped cookies looked at her and she could feel their disapproval, even without any face. Shame washed over her, its tendrils freezing her limbs. Alina Starkov didn’t fantasize over handsome ~~gods~~ men and what she’d love to do to them behind closed doors. She certainly didn’t fantasize about their lips on her skin or their hands intertwined as they traded whispered secrets deep into the night. Alina Starkov did not fantasize.

With a shaky breath, Alina picked up her piping bag and glanced at Morozova, who was already halfway to her, “Hello, Mr Morozova.” She looked back at her work and drew a thick line of black icing, pretending to be as deep in her work as she had been just seconds before his arrival, “Should you be outside with this crazy weather?” she filled the border with more black icing and dared another glance. Aleksander Morozova watched her spooky cookies with interest, the ghost of a smile dancing on his lips. He looked amused. He looked delicious.

Alina berated herself again and kept on filling volcra cookies with black icing. Her hands shook more and more with every passing second. It was a wonder she hadn’t ruined her work beyond recognition already.

“I have work.” He answered, his voice so smooth her heart almost sang, “What about you, Miss Starkov?” He was right in front of her now, his body offering some unwelcome shade for a brief second, before he took a step to the side to let the natural light fall on her work, “I’m sorry about that.” He quickly added the apology.

She shook her head, today’s braid shaking on her back, tickling the exposed skin on her neck, “Don’t worry about that, it’s fine. Well, I have to work too, as you can see. But since I live right upstairs, I didn’t have to brave the dangerous weather for more than twenty seconds.” A few more volcra were done between their shared words, “But you don’t live upstairs,” _wouldn’t mind if you did though_.

He chuckled, a sound almost bright enough to chase away the thunder clouds, and Alina pressed her eyes shut for a moment, fighting hard the moan that threatened to climb out of her lips. Aleksander said, “No, I don’t. But since I had to go outside, I wasn’t about to sacrifice my coffee break. It would be a waste of perfectly good coffee and,” his voice dropped an octave, “company.”

Her fingers almost lost their hold on the piping bag. A defeated and resigned sigh escaped her lips, it was of no use to try and do delicate work with Aleksander Morozova right there, just a few paces away, disrupting her focus with his wonderful godlike looks and wonderful magical voice and wonderful delicious lips.

Saints, she had it bad.

So. Bad.

With her best professional attitude, Alina dropped her piping bag next to her already filled cookies and looked up, her practiced baker smile on her lips, “So, what will it be? Same as always?” her voice was too light, too bubbly. It would be a wonder if Morozova didn’t pick up how hard she was trying to _not_ somersault over the counter and pin him against the wall.

A long, heavy and palpable heartbeat passed between them before Morozova smiled and her body vibrated with the sight, “Yes, please.” He made to move but hesitated, “I’ll be staying for a little longer today, so I’ll wait before paying. Will that make you happy?” his smile turned into a wicked smirk. Every day Alina insisted he didn’t have to pay before getting his order and every day he insisted on paying up front. It had turned into some sort of game between the two of them. One she had yet to win.

She glared at him, making sure it was hot enough to melt the icecaps up north, “You’re a wicked man.” The words came out before she could stop them and she quickly covered her mouth as panic and shame washed over her. The glare fizzled to nothing and Alina wished the ground would swallow her whole.

Morozova nodded, unfazed and even a bit amused before replying, “I’ve been told just as much before.” Then he gave her a short curtsy and walked to his usual spot. His step as unreal as always.

Alina’s wish for the ground to open and swallow her whole, grew with every step he took away from her. Worse that confessing her crush to Morozova’s face was to insult him and she had done it spectacularly…

Letting out the breath she’d been holding in after her stupid remark, she turned to the coffee machine to do her job. At least the routine would help her unwind. At least she couldn’t say something stupid to the machine and ruin the coffee.

 

* * *

 

“Miss Starkov…” Morozova started and fished for his wallet within his jacket. The wallet looked expensive and was, just like his shoes, in the blackest leather. The lining, however, was in the brightest light blue she had ever seen. For a moment Alina forgot how to function. All the time she had known Aleksander Morozova, she had never thought of him as a man to enjoy any colour aside from black. Yet, here it was, evidence on her wrong assumption.

“Yes? And please, call me Alina.” _Please, please, please_. She got the check and told him how much it was, whilst busy trying to steady her heart. She had yet to get him to call her by her first name. For some unfathomable reason, Morozova refused to gift her with her name in his voice.

A corner of his lips curved up and her heart stopped, waiting, waiting, waiting…

“Alina…” he tried and saints, her name on his lips sounded just like lazy nights in a lover’s embrace spent under the stars. Her heart breathed anew and she found herself fighting that damned moan. Aleksander cleared his throat before continuing, “Do you… Do you think ties of different colours would clash with my outfit?”

She blinked, surprised by the question. She had expected anything, anything at all. But not this, not a… fashion advice. “I… I don’t think so. Black goes with every colour. If anything, a pop of colour would add something extra do your look.” _Not that you need_. She paused, “But why would you care about my opinion?”

Something sparked in his eyes before he breathed, “I don’t know. But I do.” He took a breath. And time seemed to shift, the world tipping over when in the blink of an eye he was leaning over the counter and… kissing her.

Aleksander Morozova, the man that made her heart skip a beat every time he so much as looked at her, was kissing her. The pressure of his lips on hers was just… perfect. Exactly as her wild imagination and countless daydreams had predicted. Her heart was singing, her blood was thrumming, her brain was shutting down, her skin was burning and she was falling, falling, falling. She’d been kissed by a silver eyed god and there was no saving her soul.

That wretched moan that she’d locked away so many times just that day climbed up her throat just as his hand slipped deep into her hair, his tongue teased her lips in a silent request to deepen the kiss and…

The door jingled as someone entered the bakery.

When before she’d felt nothing but Morozova, now she felt the cold air from outside, cutting through her, deep into her heart.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but we must leave.” A cold, bored voice called from behind Morozova. His silver eyes closed in what looked like regret before he turned around and faced the interruption. The air around him shifted.

From over his shoulder, Alina saw the man’s faithful bodyguard slash driver, Ivan. He was tall, bulky and had sandy blonde hair, which only ended up giving him a slightly cliché Russian mobster look. It didn’t help that every time he looked at her it felt as if he was gazing down at the most disgusting piece of filth the world had ever produced. She had no idea why the man hated her so deeply, they had never traded so much as a word. But she was certain he hated her.

“I know, Ivan. You didn’t have to rush in like that.” Morozova said, a dangerous edge to his words. For one brief moment, Alina felt real fear for Ivan.

The man, sensing the change in the atmosphere, gave his boss a sharp nod and left without another word.

“I’m sorry about that… But…” Morozova turned back to her, a sad smile on his lips, “I’m afraid I have to go. Important business.”

She nodded, already feeling all the warmth his kiss had given her fading away, quickly turning to cold, sharp icicles that pierced through her, “I understand, Mr Morozova.”

His expression softened and he said, “Please… Aleksander.”

Alina gave him a tiny smile, her heart feeling a little warmer again, “Of course, Aleksander.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wretched Ivan and his blind jealous, huh?
> 
> comments/feedback/fangirling always welcome to chase away the wolves biting on my ankles


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

She hated him.

She truly, deeply hated him.

And she no longer thought he was a god among men. No, he was the devil.

A whole month had passed since that earth tipping kiss they’d shared and not once had Alina laid eyes on Aleksander again. One day went by without his presence and she supposed he was busy, but then another passed, and another, and another and soon… soon, weeks were rushing by her and no sign of him. It was as if he’d been just a mirage.

The hours after the kiss had been filled with little skittery dances all over her bakery as she twirled her dress around. With heart shaped cookies being added to the oven, all her spooky cookies forgotten on the counter. With romantic pop songs blasting through the speakers on the walls, their light beat in sync with her heart and the lyrics speaking to her in a way they had never spoken before. She’d relieved the kiss over and over again, her smile permanently etched on her face. Her heart jumped up and down drunk on happiness, her heart flew and floated, it glowed and it did everything romantic novels and movies and poetry said hearts could do when in love. And when night came, Alina fell asleep with dreams of Aleksander and his kiss and his lips and scenarios of him laying by her side, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, teasing her body with his skilful hands, making her giggle and gasp and squeal and moan. She had never slept so wonderfully in so long.

But her little trip to cloud nine could only last so long. Sooner than she had ever expected, Alina was falling back to the surface of the earth at a terrifying speed. When Aleksander didn’t show up again… Alina started to think herself a fool, an absolute and ridiculous fool for falling so hard and so fast for a man clouded in mystery. For the first time in her life, she blamed her awful luck in romance on her unusual love for the volcra and all dark and mysterious things in this world and the next. She really had been a fool, an absolute and ridiculous fool. She’d opened her heart to the first man that made her stomach flutter. And then she’d let Aleksander Morozova play with her heartstrings.

 

* * *

 

Alina eyed her watch.

Only a minute left before she could officially turn the key and lock up for the day. It had been a long day, full of baking and serving and chatting and baking again. It was one of those days when it seemed that heavy, dark thunderclouds had passed by just to shower her with clients. Alina didn’t really complain, but she ran Real Sugar all by herself after all, it could get a bit overwhelming at times. Sure, Nadia came by to help on such days, but today her friend hadn’t been able to help for more than an hour right after lunch. She had an exam and she needed to review her notes before the dreaded moment.

She eyed the vintage clock on her wall and watched with eager anticipation as the seconds ticked by, slowly moving closer and closer to the closing hour. With each lazy second her heart seemed to beat harder. Sure, she could close right away, but the young baker had learned that when one wanted to close a minute earlier there was always a late client showing up. Best to stay behind the counter ready to serve than to be caught trying to sneak away. The seconds seemed to melt and die before reaching the hour. She was tired and she wanted to go to bed and today time was decided on taking its… time.

The final second finally struck the hour, its tick like a war horn ringing inside her skull. With a tired but relieved sigh, Alina quickly walked to the door and took out her key, ready to finish locking up. She glanced at the windows to be sure everything was locked then looked back at the door only to have her balance completely thrown off. She’d been standing on a balancing beam and had finally leaned too far to her side. The ground, once more, rushed to meet her.

Silver.

Silver eyes stared right into hers.

And she could feel the silent question.  Time itself held its breath, waiting, waiting, waiting for her answer. And, in spite of hating the man standing in front of her, she could feel her heart giving in, weak and hungry for love as it was.

She stepped away from the door as if it was burning her.

Taking the chance, Aleksander crossed the threshold, slowly, silently. He could very well be a ghost. Except… Except she could feel the heat of his body filling the space around them. He was no ghost.

“Alina…” it was little more than a breath. A breath that she quickly cut through, before it did any more damage than his presence already had done.

“Stop. No. You…” her mouth was dry, too dry, too dry… “You have,” she took a breath, “no right to come here like this.” She took another step away from him when he lifted a hand, “You have absolutely no right to come back after a month of absence and… and… what? Expect me to run to your arms like no time had passed?!” her voice broke, anger and heartbreak taking over all of her rational thoughts. They were spilling out of her and she could no longer hold these feelings inside her.

Hurt flashed in Aleksander’s eyes, “Alina… please…”

“No!” she moved, putting the counter between them, ignoring the pang in her heart at the sight of pain in his eyes, “You can’t flirt with me and kiss me like… like… like I’m your favourite cupcake and then just LEAVE! WITHOUT ANY WORD OR EXPLANATION!” She was screaming now, and honestly, she didn’t care at all. There were too many emotions, too many feelings, too many thoughts bubbling inside of her, dying to get out and leave nothing but destruction in their wake. They were spilling and spilling and spilling.

Maybe she was too blind in her anger and pain, maybe she hadn’t really measured well the distance between them, maybe time had given Aleksander an unworthy break… Because one moment she was yelling at the bastard, cursing him and his entire family line, two metres and a counter between them, the next… the next moment Aleksander was kissing her, his hungry lips promptly shutting up any words that hadn’t been spilled yet.

And then, sooner than her treacherous heart wanted, the kiss was over.

“Alina… Saints…” he struggled for words, his hands lost in her hair, “I wanted to come back sooner. I wanted it so much. So…” he shuddered and her heart skipped a year of beats, “much… Saints… Alina…” his breathing was ragged, struggled, as if he had cotton lodged in his throat, “You make me so weak Alina…” And then his lips were on her neck, burning through her skin over and over and over again. He was a pyromaniac and she was a dried field of firewood and he was setting fire to every inch of her with those dangerous lips of his and those greedy hands and… and…

Alina struggled to break free, hardly putting an inch between her skin and Aleksander, “What… W-What…” her voice was hoarse, giving away the effect his kisses had on her, “What do you mean w-with… with coming back?” Her clothes were too tight, too tight, too tight. The room was too small, too small, too small. She needed space. She needed air. She needed Aleksander.

He took in a deep breath, his whole body shaking in its wake, “I had to leave… Business… My job… Alina…” a tremble started on his fingers, quickly spreading through his whole body, “Please… Let me… Let me…” Her skin tingled with anticipation, his lips just a breath away from her pulse. And she was breaking apart, into a million pieces, a million infinitesimal pieces. Aleksander was begging her, just a second away from being on his knees. He was begging her. Begging. “Alina… You make me so weak… So… weak…” She wasn’t sure who was making who weak anymore.

Later, much later, Alina would try to figure out just who had made the final move, just who had taken the axe and struck them down, killing any reservation either might still have. And she wouldn’t know. She would never be able to tell who had struck the killing blow.

All she knew, all she knew… Was that Aleksander’s lips were on her skin, climbing higher and higher and higher, until… until he’d captured her lips. He was hungry for her, starving, dying for her and so was she for him. Oh, she had been dying for his touch for so long and she hadn’t realised it until her heart was breathing anew with his kisses.

Aleksander picked her up by her thighs in one smooth move and took her through a door, deep into the bakery, blindly taking them away from prying eyes, his starving mouth never leaving her equally starving mouth.

 

* * *

 

Her back was pressed against the wall, his hips pressed against hers and saints, she could _feel_ him. She could feel Aleksander as he drew a map on her skin, his dangerous and hungry lips marking each spot for the future, his hot breath and his clever hands uncovering the path to her heart and she kept on falling, falling, falling.

Her skin was burning, her blood boiling, her senses all tuned in on Aleksander. Aleksander… His hands were doing all sorts of things to her… She could feel his fingertips moving in on her, inch by inch, closer and closer and she wanted it so badly. She wanted _him_ so badly. She felt like with just one kiss Aleksander had gotten her hooked. An addiction so violent she could actually die if his touch was taken from her right now. Her hold on him tightened, daring the universe to take this walking god and his expert hands from her.

Aleksander’s breathing was coming out ragged and faster with each passing second, his lips barely leaving her skin, spreading toxic kisses on her shoulder and the collarbone and the hollow of… of… of her neck… A gasp climbed up her throat the moment his lips touched that spot. The way he rocked his hips against hers, the way his groan felt like a delighted purr... Aleksander had found one of her sweet spots. And sweet it was. She could feel her body breaking apart, melting to the ground and all Aleksander had done was kiss the hollow of her throat. The pressure of his body on hers didn’t help at all. There was a pounding between her thighs that was driving her mad with a hunger so wild, so, so wild, that Alina almost begged him to take her right there and then. No more games, no more teasing, no more preamble. She needed him now. She needed all of him.

Oh, why had she ever doubted him to be a god? Mortal men couldn’t make her feel the way he did. And she was certain no mortal man would be able to satisfy her the way she knew Aleksander would.

“Alina…” his lips were on hers now, teasing her with feather light kisses, staying away just enough to draw a string of soft, begging whimpers from her swollen lips, “You have no idea how much…” he shuddered and his hand moved deeper under her skirts, “How much I want you right now…” he played with the hem of her underwear and she had to bite her tongue to stop a moan from breaking free.

Her tongue was heavy and lazy when she spoke, as if it had better things to do, like getting tangled with Aleksander’s brilliant tongue. “Then what’s stopping you?” the words were out and for a second she froze in his hold. Had she really said that? Oh, she really had it bad for him, didn’t she?

Without a second to spare, Aleksander took her lips in an earth-shattering, but surprisingly chaste kiss. Her toes curled up, her eyes rolled in ecstasy, her legs tightened around his waist. “Trust me…” he said, once they had to surface for air, “Right here would be good enough…” he squeezed her inner thigh, drawing a moan from her parted lips, “But I have other plans for you, Alina… my… Alina…” He kissed her jaw once, “I want to take my time with you tonight…” he kissed the spot where her blood was drumming, “I want to discover every inch of your body…” he kissed the other side of her neck, “I want to learn every sweet spot your body has…” he kissed her collarbone, “And I want to hear you scream my name until your throat goes raw…” And then, just when her heart and her body could no longer take it, Aleksander brought his lips down on hers.

Tonight would be unforgettable, Alina was sure of it.

And there was no way, no how, that anything would come between them.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it! :D  
> little actual bakery in here but what did you expect? them to stop making out to bake a few cookies? maybe later ;)
> 
> as always, comments/feedback/fangirling helps me come up with new stuff <3

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed this!
> 
> comments/feedback/fangirling are always appreciated as they help in my fight against the monsters under the bed <3


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